On the Broomstick: series

The sun was long past setting as the six gathered deep in the darkness and began moving through the trees. Their only light was that of the luminescent moon at its fullest. The youngest of the six led the way, she may have been the least in years, yet the others knew she was the one that held all the strength.

In her wake, each would turn and check their trail to be certain no one followed. If their parents were ever to know, it would be the end of them all. The power and gifts they held secret had been discovered quite by accident a few years before, since that time they had honed their great skills of true magic.

Eden quickly caught up to her sister at the front, a sister of choice and not from blood. Ducking her head, she whispered as close to Alana’s ear as she possibly could. “Do you know of the reason for the summoning?”

Alana shook her pitch black hair back from her face. “I do not.” She turned towards the lake and increased the pace of her step. Peering back over her shoulder, she gauged the others closeness and then spoke as soft as a breeze. “A dark feeling has filled me for many days past, I fear it is not for good reasons we gather on this autumnal night.” She patted the bundle she carried from cord at her side. “We must be wary and prepared.”

Eden inhaled sharply and dropped back a pace. “I shall caution Bridget.” Alana only lifted her face to the moons rays and continued on. Turning to look quickly at the three that walked a ways behind, heads close together, she turned and gave Bridget a stare to bring her to hasten her movement forward. As soon as she was within hearing, she whispered to the ground. “Alana has dark feelings – yet again.”

Bridget sighed quite loudly. “I have been a feared of such since two days past, she walks about with that crease on her brow and my guts supposed it were to be brusquely that our scheme was at hand.”

Eden nodded, but daren’t say more for fear of the others overhearing.

Once reaching the lake, the six spread out the distance between their bodies, in habit a circle was formed. Alana set her bundle upon the ground at her feet and turned to the eldest among them. “Having done as you stated, not one of us have uttered a query for this assembly you have called, Ella.” She looked around at her sisters of her choosing to see their rapt attention on the one she spoke to. “Do end our curiosity, sister and share the meaning if you please.” She kept her focus on the crimson haired sister, watching for a sign she prayed would not be revealed. Ella flipped her long locks back as she let her eyes move over each girl present. The last she looked upon was Alana, as she knew to be common with her.

“It is my right to call each of you – as only sisters of our circle apt to do.” Lenora and Jane were the only of the five that agreed readily. “The year is now one thousand, six hundred eighty- five. It has been five years past, since the night we found our way to one another, as we are. I have a wish to ensure the threats to our very lives are secure and to behold a power that we six are deserving of.”

Alana shook her head when Eden inhaled raggedly. “Sister, Ella, have we not spoke of this to the point of tiring? The hunts have ceased, no more shall be accused nor sought. We are here, each one of us safe.” She chanced a glance at the others and found the group was as she knew it to be, split in two groups of three. “Not once during the trials and fearsome times did even one come to think of us as a sort of betrayer to the word...”

“Alana, child, you are what now? Ten and three years?” Ella smiled in that maddening way she had. “I, having five further years on yours can feel it in my bones, these outrageous happenings are not at a cease and we are very much in need of ensuring it does not come to pass again.”

Alana dropped her head down and let her black hair cover her face whilst she sought out the vibrations of the others dear to her heart. Lifting her face she beheld the moon hanging over the lake. “We are but children, Ella. As god fearing as any that step in the arch of our church, we have nothing to fear.”

“We have everything to fear!” Ella’s voice rose through the silence of the night. “I shall be a betrothed woman in short time and then what will become of me when my husband discovers what I am?”

Eden replied before Alana had the chance. “I am certain William will be ignorant in your habits, sister. How would he ever find a clue unless you told him you are a witch of magicks.”

Lenora stepped forward and shook her head. “In less than the years we have been together, each of us shall be wives – then what shall we ever do?”

“I agree.” Jane said quietly. “In one year’s time I too will be set to marry.”

Bridget lifted her head and glared at Jane. “Whoever shall marry you shall get what he has coming to him.”

Tiring from the words they had all said to her many times before, Alana raised her hands in the air and sent a gust of wind through the circle. “I cannot bear to hear this again, sisters.” She turned and watched as Ella and Jane nodded to one another. “I am not taking part in your scheme of evil darkness.”

Ella snorted in an unpleasant manner. “You would break your word to each present here?”

Alana took a step back, bringing her close to the water’s edge. “I would not.” Her eyes quickly met that of Eden and Bridget before she finished. “I would choose to revoke all I that I have been given than do unjust things to others that cannot defend themselves from your dark ways.”

Lenora gasped. “You would not...”

Alana raised her hands. “I would exactly.”

Jane stepped in front of Ella. “For you to revoke your gifts, would you not be obliged to take all of ours?”

Alana shrugged. “Mayhap it will take all no one can be certain.”

Ella shoved Jane out of her way. “You would not dare to try, young sister...”

Eden bent down at Alana’s feet and opened the bundle. Alana opened her hands in front of her and bit her lip to stop from hissing as her sister placed a small score on each of her palms. Keeping her focus on the three opposed, she prayed they could not see. When Eden straightened and walked past Bridget, she knew the task was complete.

Alana clasped a hand each of Eden and Bridget and raised their arms; the blood from the shallow scores upon their hands mixed and brought to her a heat of power that only she could have born.

“Sister, Eden, stop them!” Lenora cried.

Alana closed her eyes and felt the winds circle her with recognition. Beneath her feet the ground quivered, waiting for her to speak to it. As she opened her eyes and focused on the three sisters she did not now touch, she felt the spray from the water at her back cover her in small droplets. “I cannot be part of something that goes against all that I feel to be right, sisters.” Tilting her head she looked at Jane. “Join us in protecting what is just.”

Jane’s eyes widened and for the briefness of a heartbeat, Alana thought there was a small chance she might agree, but she shook her head and stepped beside Ella. Woefulness filled her insides, even though she knew the outcome days before, her heart begged her to attempt. “Lenora?” Once more she waited even though she knew another sister was lost to her. Lenora backed further away and looked at the sand under her feet. “So shall it be,” Alana whispered.

Inhaling slowly she raised her eyes to the moon whose rays bound her to the sky above. “I call ...”

“Wait!” Ella’s voice was filled with panic. “We can speak more of this and draw an end that pleases each one of us together.”

The fear jolted into her from the hands she held. Without looking at Ella, she sought to feel what was in her soul. Pain enveloped her heart as the truth coursed into her. “Why speak of falseness, eldest sister? I know what lurks in your heart and I must protect the innocent you wish to cause sufferance to.”

Raising her hands higher she spoke to the night. “I call upon the night and all of her energy, come to me and abet me with this, my last task.” The winds swirled coloured leaves around her, she smiled and let the magic wash over, feeling the warm welcome of it just once more. Lightening streaked through the clear sky above, she inhaled the power. “I seek to bind this three and three from doing any harm.” A circle of flames burst around them, flicking as long tongues of three feet high, blocking the outside from entering and the six from leaving. “I send for safe keeping all that we have, the gifts that you gave, to our furthest ancestors to keep within until there is a dire need of them.”

A stinging traveled along her flesh as the energies gathered, waiting for her leave go of. “When a time comes that this three and three be together once more, awaken and come again...” So much power was collecting inside her she had no choice but to cry a single tear, knowing that this was the last time she would feel it in this body. “Collect inside the generations and carry us forward to a time long from now.” She could hear crying, but was not to take a chance to see which sister or sisters it came from. “Select the one that bear good will and hold an honest heart and make her remember. Remember the times of this six and behold the gifts we pass to her.” A clap of thunder sounded across the sky, its cry echoing over the lake until it faded back into the night. “I thank you from deep within and now set you free...”

A strong tunnel of wind gust through the circle, stealing any more she had to speak. Opening her eyes wider she watched as each sister dropped to the ground, leaving her the last one standing. A burning washed over her, pulling at her until she thought she could bear it no longer, and then it was gone. Emptiness filled her as the flames swallowed into the ground. Behind her the water was now lying calmly as it had been when they had arrived. The earth was now silent, as it had been. The rays of the moon seemed no more than a light in the darkness, without power and purpose.

A draining feeling passed through her, causing her legs to weaken under her until she dropped onto the sand and panted to seek to breathe once again. Looking around, the others didn’t move, they just lay where they had fallen without a word. When she glanced upon Ella, the hatred was clearly on her face.

“I will have vengeance.” Ella hissed at her.

Alana rolled onto her back and looked at the sky, feeling like nothing more than a child again. “You may seek to strive for such.” She answered softly. “My will shall fall to my kin far from now and we shall see if you find triumph.” To feel nothing but commonness once more—it was wondrous to feel.

Was she floating? See seemed weightless enough to be. Squeezing her eyes shut, she counted to ten before opening them again.

Hovering above a lake, she could see her own shadow cast on the water from the moon above her.

A dream, it had to be a dream. The last time she checked none of her life skills involved floating.

Glancing around, she didn’t recognize the area below her. People were walking through trees, or maybe those were just children...

Where was she?

A void feeling came over her, like she was fading...

What was that ringing noise?

Bolting up, Teegan looked around to realize she was in her own living room.

Review:

Ten words or less for the busy reader:

Witchy read from start to finish.

Suspenseful.

Awesome cover.

3.5/5

About the Author:

Jacqueline Paige lives in Ontario in a small town that's part of the popular Georgian Triangle area. No one has ever heard of Stayner, so she usually tells people she lives near Collingwood and no, she doesn't ski at Blue Mountain or at all, in fact she's not even fond of snow.

She began her writing career in 2006 and since her first published works in 2009 she hasn't stopped. Jacqueline describes her writing as all things paranormal, which she has proven is her niche with stories of witches, ghosts, physics and shifters now on the shelves.

When Jacqueline isn't working at her reality job or lost in her writing she spends time with her five children, most of whom are finally able to look after her instead of the other way around. Together they do random road trips, that usually end up with them lost, shopping trips where they push every button in the toy aisle, hiking when there's enough time to escape and bizarre things like creating new daring recipes in the kitchen. She's a grandmother to five (so far) and looks forward to corrupting many more in the years to come.

https://www.facebook.com/authorjacquelinepaige

@JacqPaige

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3080517.Jacqueline_Paige

http://jacquelinepaige.com/

http://jacqpaige.blogspot.ca/

http://www.amazon.com/Jacqueline-Paige/e/B003LDHJAW/

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

The Line: Witchery in Savannah

Move over, Sookie Stackhouse—the witches of Savannah are the new talk of the South. Bold, flirty, and with a touch of darkness, debut author J.D. Horn spins a mesmerizing tale of a family of witches . . . and the problem that can arise from being so powerful. As Charlaine Harris’ series winds down—and as Deborah Harkness’ series heats up—Witching Savannah is new contemporary fantasy that will be sure to enchant new readers.

Mercy Taylor, the youngest member of Savannah’s preeminent witching family, was born without the gift of magic. She is accustomed to coming in a distant second to the minutes older, exquisite and gifted twin she adores. Hopelessly in love with her sister’s boyfriend, she goes to a Hoodoo root doctor for a love spell. A spell that will turn her heart to another man, the best friend who has loved her since childhood.

Aunt Ginny, the family’s matriarch, would not approve. But Mercy has more to worry about than a love triangle when Aunt Ginny is brutally murdered. Ginny was the Taylor family’s high commander in the defense of the bewitched line that separates humankind from the demons who once ruled our realm.

A demon invasion looms now that the line is compromised. Worse yet, some within the witching world stand to gain from a demon takeover. Mercy, entangled in the dark magic of her love spell, fighting for her sister’s trust, and hopelessly without magic, must tap the strength born from being an outcast to protect the line she doesn’t feel a part of...

In this riveting contemporary fantasy, Horn delivers the full betrayal, blood, and familial discord of the best of Southern gothic.

Amazon

The Line (Witching Savannah, Book 1)

Savannah, the whole damned place is a graveyard. Serene and beautiful, but built on the bones of those who fell under her spell. Magic clings to her as sure as Spanish moss hangs from her ancient live oaks, but most of that magic is under the control of a sole family, the Taylor witches, and they plan on keeping it to themselves. After all, real magic belongs in the hands of real witches, the people who created and maintain The Line, a safety net of energy that protects us from the demons that once owned our reality and who are doing their best to fight their way back in.

Mercy Taylor has none of her family's power. The Taylors, although no one other than her aunt’s husband would ever say so openly, view Mercy’s lack of power as an unfortunate, if not entirely debilitating, birth defect. Well, maybe that is too strong. Maybe more like her ginger coloring, not the ideal, but nothing to be ashamed of.

Maisie, Mercy’s fraternal twin, on the other hand, came into the world nearly glowing with power. She never knew an awkward phase or felt like an outsider in the Taylor witches’ magical world. But Mercy adores Maisie and never begrudged her sister her grace, beauty or magic. Mercy never coveted anything that belongs to her sister, that is until Jackson came along. As hard as she tries to resist her feelings for her sister’s lover, something in Mercy’s heart tells her that Jackson should be hers.

When Mercy discovers the bludgeoned corpse of the family matriarch, she begins to unravel a skein of lies and misdirection that covers a conspiracy to bring down The Line. A conspiracy in which she is the central pawn.

Guest post:

The Craft Versus Lovecraft

Magic. Witch. Witchcraft. These words are emotionally charged and laden with many different connotations. Some are positive, but the majority not so much. The watercolor image of a wise earth mother contrasts with that of a lurid black Sabbath, the honorable religion of Wicca with that of debased devil worship. When I set out to write The Line, first book in the Witching Savannah series, I was confronted with the need for a magical system that could somehow sidestep the pitfalls of both popular culture stereotypes, and the intolerance that has too long colored mainstream religion’s perception of those who follow Pagan paths.

The question became how to make practitioners of Wicca (and other Pagan faiths) feel respected, but also to broaden the meaning of these three enchanted words so that people of all faiths (or no faith at all) could join in on the fun.

Inspiration came to me when rereading H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Dreams in the Witch House.” Certainly Keziah Mason, the titular witch, falls very much within the literary camp of evil child-sacrificing hags, but what caught my imagination was that the source of her power fell outside the purview of any earthly religion. Lovecraft created a space for cosmic horror that lies beyond theological debate. There may be a “big G “ God, or there may not be, but in his cosmic horror there are incomprehensible and frightening entities out there whose access to power would certainly lead early man to view them as gods.

Lovecraft’s old gods and “Elder Things” spring from a place where science intersects the occult. I decided I wanted to play in this sandbox. I asked myself what it might look like if this magic, this cosmic power, wasn’t in and of itself evil, the only evil being the way Keziah chose to interact with and use it. This thought combined with a marathon viewing of “Ancient Aliens” to form the base of The Line’s magical system.

Even though Lovecraft’s archaic language and affected ambience (two things I personally enjoy in his work) don’t find their way into The Line, readers of the Witching Savannah series will notice many affectionate nods to Lovecraft, from the Old Ones the magic of the line protects us from, to a creature inspired by Brown Jenkin that makes an appearance in The Source, second book in the Witching Savannah series. In The Line, the heroine, Mercy Taylor, notes that her family came to Savannah shortly after the end of the Civil War. It is part of the (unwritten) family backstory that they came to Savannah from Lovecraft’s own beloved Providence.

Lovecraft’s concept of cosmic horror provided space to create witches whose power has nothing to do with their creed. The witches of The Line are followers of many faiths, including the Wiccan, Jewish, Christian, Hindu, Aboriginal and Native American spirituality. Some are even atheist. The Taylor family, the central family of the series, falls firmly in the category of the spiritual, but religiously unaffiliated.

I hope readers will enjoy the narrative freedom this lack of connection to any one religion permits as Mercy’s story unfolds in The Line, The Source (coming in June 2014) and The Void (coming late fall 2014).

J. D. Horn was raised in rural Tennessee, and has since carried a bit of its red clay in him while traveling the world, from Hollywood, to Paris, to Tokyo. He studied comparative literature as an undergrad, focusing on French and Russian in particular. He also holds an MBA in international business and worked as a financial analyst before becoming a novelist.

Links:

http://www.amazon.com/Line-Witching-Savannah-Book-One-ebook/dp/B00CIDTH2E/

http://www.WitchingSavannah.com

http://www.Facebook.com/TheLineSavannah

@TheLineSavannah

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

For the Love of Hades Virtual Tour

For the Love of Hades
Loves of Olympus, Book 2

Sasha Summers

Genre: Romantic Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Crescent Moon Press

ISBN: 978-1-937254-83-4

ASIN: 978-1-937254-84-1

Number of pages: 309

Word Count: 78,500

Cover Artist: Jeannie Ruesch

Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/LXx52Vve8hY

Book Description:

Hades, the Lord of the Underworld, has no patience for living things or his Olympian brethren. His purpose is order, administering justice to those who enter his realm, and keeping the balance decreed by the Fates. Meeting Persephone sways his focus, her gentle sweetness threatening his control. But he will not be tempted.

Poseidon’s scheming wreaks havoc upon Persephone. Hades has no choice - he must rescue her.

Hades awakens something within the Goddess Persephone. She feels no fear from his brooding presence. In truth, she’s never felt so alive. Every stolen moment together only confirms her instinct: he is meant to be hers. Such a powerful union suit will face opposition – from Olympus, her troubled betrothed, the Fates, even Hades himself – but she is determined to win his heart.

Tagline: Hades, God of Death, has no heart. Persephone is determined to prove otherwise…

Short Excerpt For the Love of Hades

Hades glanced at the lily propped atop the mantle. The blossom was bright white against the black silk to which it was pinned, light against the darkness. He reached up, tracing one petal with an unsteady finger. He saw the tremor, cursed it, and clenched his hand, drawing back from the flower as if it had burned him.

Turning abruptly from the fire, he made his way to his chair and sat heavily. There was a sweetness to his burden, but it was no less a burden.

He leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees and covered his face with his hands.

What had he done? How could he make amends now that his heinous act had been hidden so long? Using his powers to aid a mortal would seem trivial in comparison with the offense he’d committed against Demeter. Against Olympus.

And yet, he felt whole.

The raw emptiness that he’d held at bay, for nigh on an eternity, no longer threatened to consume him. Having her here, with her constant laughter and endless conversation, had changed his world irrevocably.

If not for her, he would have remained bitter and angry. He would not have interfered at Cyprus. He would never have thought to champion the mortal, Ariston…

“My lord.” Her soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

He lifted his head from his hands, surprised.

Persephone stood, beauty to behold, watching him with wide green eyes. In the blazing firelight her hair glowed copper, warm and rich. Her face, normally alight with smiles and laughter, was drawn. Was she not fully recovered? Or did the tension between them tire her as well?

His voice revealed nothing. “Persephone.”

Her steps were cautious, but she made her way to him. “Aphrodite?”

So she had seen Aphrodite. “Has gone.” And she should have gone with her fellow Olympian. He should have insisted she do so. He swallowed against the lump in his throat, ignoring the tightening in his chest.

“I thought as much.” She stood so close he could see the front of her tunic. The fabric trembled, thundering in time with the rapid beat of her heart.

Was she disappointed? Was she ready to leave him… his realm?

She should go. She should have gone weeks ago. He knew it was right. Yet knowing it did nothing to soothe his agitation. He clutched the arms of his throne, clinging to control.

“I’ve not asked you for anything in my time here.” She paused. “Have I?”

He shook his head once. No, she’d seemed happy, though he had little knowledge of true happiness, he supposed. His gaze found shadows beneath her eyes and a tightness about her mouth. He was a blind fool.

Have you been miserable? He could not ask the words aloud, fearing her answer.

Her voice was no steadier than her pulse. “Nor would I trouble you now, if my need were not so great.”

“What is it?” he asked. His voice sounded harsh to his own ears.

She sank to her knees, glancing at him with an almost timid gaze. Her hands lifted, wavered, and covered his hands. He stiffened, stunned by her actions. She touched him… He swallowed. The feel of her hands upon him squeezed the air from his lungs.

“Show me mercy. Show me the same mercy you’ve bestowed upon the mortal… the soldier Ariston.” Her hands clasped his tightly.

He would not reach for her, he could not. No matter how he might want to.

“Have I been cruel, that you feel the need to beg for anything from me?” His words were a harsh whisper. She shook her head and he continued, “Then why do you kneel before me?”

“It is a selfish request, one that may turn you from solicitous to,” she paused, her cheeks growing red, “… sickened.”

Was it possible for him to feel so towards her?

He stared at her hands, wrapped about his. He would not meet her gaze. He would not reveal his damnable weakness to her. He could not risk losing himself in the fathomless depths of her green eyes. “Ask me,” he murmured as his traitorous eyes sought hers.

She drew in a wavering breath, ragged and labored. Her whispered words were thick.

“My lover… Release him. Release the man who loves me, please.” Her eyes sparkled, mesmerizing him while his heart, so newly discovered, seemed to shudder to a stop once more.

Medusa A Love Story

Loves of Olympus Book One

By Sasha Summers

Book Description:

It's said love can change a person. Medusa wasn't always a monster...

Medusa is ruled by duty, to her Titan father and the Goddess Athena. She's no room for the tenderness her warrior guard, Ariston, stirs. When Olympus frees her from service, her heart leads her into the arms of the guard she loves... and curses her as the creature with serpent locks.

Ariston goes to war with a full heart... and dreadful foreboding. He learns too late of the danger Medusa faces, alone, and a Persian blade sends him into the Underworld. But death, curses, nor the wrath of the Gods will keep him from returning to her.

Poseidon will use Greece's war to get what he wants: Medusa. He does not care that she belongs to another. He does not care that she will be damned. He is a God, an Olympian, and she will be his.

book trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=90fH7xoZiCo

"This tragic and beautiful retelling of one of the world's oldest stories tackles the eternal battle between duty and happiness. Medusa, A Love Story broke my heart then filled in the cracks with joy. Sasha Summers is simply a mesmerizing new talent." ~Stephanie Dray, Author of the critically acclaimed Song of the Nile

If you want to read a series that will bring to life the mythological characters you have watched on the big screen and studied myths about, then this series will surprise and delight you. I fell in love with Medusa, A Love Story from the first page and I can tell you the same holds true for For the Love of Hades.Sasha Summers breathes life into her characters and makes you feel their love, their heartache and their every emotion in between. This is a must read for any lover of myth and legend. You won't be able to put it down. Excellent read!

5/5

About the Author :

Sasha Summers is part gypsy. Her passions have always been storytelling, history, and travel. It's no surprise that her books visit times past, set in places rich with legends and myth. Her first play, 'Greek Gods and Goddesses' (original title, right?), was written for her Girl Scout troupe.

She's been writing ever since. She loves getting lost in the worlds and characters she creates; even if she frequently forgets to run the dishwasher or wash socks when she's doing so. Luckily, her four brilliant children and hero-inspiring hubby are super understanding and supportive.

Sasha is an active member of RWA and several Texas Chapters. A self-proclaimed movie-addict, she is full of all sorts of useless movie tidbits and trivia.

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